


“She loved him, and he loved her. But it wasn’t that simple.”

by ExclusiveGorgeousGeek



Category: My Story - Fandom, Personal - Fandom
Genre: Broken, Ex, Feelings, First Heartbreak, First Relationship, Heartbreak, Hurt, My First Love - Freeform, POV First Person, boyfriend - Freeform, my story, personal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:49:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25563115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExclusiveGorgeousGeek/pseuds/ExclusiveGorgeousGeek
Summary: My first real relationship heartbreak in words. I needed to place for my heart to pour and I thought someone else might get a nice read out of it.





	“She loved him, and he loved her. But it wasn’t that simple.”

I knew. From the very start. It was too good to be true. 

I wanted to pretend I didn’t see it coming. I wanted to believe that for once, it was just me over-thinking and it wasn’t a premonition like all the   
other times seemed to be. I just wanted this time to be different. To not have to spend every night waiting for them to leave. To not respond. For him to be different. To not lose another person I loved. 

This time it hurt more than usual. It’s beyond hard to go through a heartbreak, let alone multiple before you even hit your 20s. But this one was different. It struck me differently than the past cracks. It struck deeper. Harder. 

Maybe because it was a different type of love? The time first I had fallen in love? Was it the past hurt? The lingering sting of past abandonments? I don’t think it was that. Then again, I’m not sure. I’m not sure of a lot things as of late.   
That day. The day he left. The day it all changed. Of course, that's not really the day it changed; I mean in a reality sense maybe. Maybe for him. But not in my head.

Not for me. 

I’m pretty sure I knew it was happening before he even did. Call it, female intuition. Or maybe it was the trauma radar getting another workout. I could feel it.  
  
About two months previous. Before the words even left his mouth. 

It just felt...different. He felt different. We felt different. 

When I would go home from spending the day, he wouldn’t really talk to me except for small things once in a while. 

A “goodmorning lovely” here. 

And a “I'm exhausted and everything hurts” there. 

He didn’t realize how fitting that truly was. 

Even then the contact was sporadic. Like you would be with someone who you didn’t want to lose complete contact with, but quite honestly would rather forget about. Though he would usually blame it on work, and I would believe him. And I don’t think he was lying. 

He works a lot. He always said it was his distraction. The drinking was his distraction. That flirting with the girls from work was his distraction. 

That having those girls come over and watch movies and play Minecraft with him was just a distraction. 

The girls he could totally see himself with, but yanno, they were just friends. They were a distraction. 

Because he had me. He had me even though I was an hour away. 

I trusted him. Always have. It wasn’t the flirting with other girls that bothered me, although looking on it now, it probably should have. It so so should have. 

It was the underlining thoughts that went along with it. 

The facts. 

To be distracted, he had to replace me in his head. To replaced me with those girls he knew he could take home and all he would have to do is ask them. Even if he never would. 

It was the fact that no one he knew really knew we were dating, even in those 7 months. I was “a friend.” or “Anna”. Never the girlfriend. 

His Facebook still read single. I mentioned it in passing thinking maybe he just didn’t know. 

He knew. That’s why girls continued to message him, because they thought he was single. 

I'm pretty sure he liked them thinking he was single. 

He never changed it. 

I don’t think he purposely set out to not say, I think he just didn’t. 

Those girls certainly didn’t need to know. That stack of cards with phone numbers and snapchat users in his car from work didn’t need to know. The hundreds of saved past lovers’ nudes in his phone didn’t need to know. The phone he wouldn’t let me look through didn’t need to know. The text messages he would purposely move so I couldn’t read over his shoulder obviously didn’t need to know. 

It was his distraction. From life, from the demons, from the nightmares, from me. 

It wasn’t so much he wanted to be distracted from me. It was from the me that wasn’t there. 

The me that wasn’t moving up there for another year, if at all. 

The me that was an hour away.

When I went to visit, it was almost like he was afraid to look me in the eye. If I hadn’t known him for so long I would of thought, he was hiding something from me. Turns out he was. Not in the sense one would expect though. 

He wanted out; he just didn’t know how to tell me yet. 

Then it happened. Exactly two months since he moved. 

The literal exact day we had been together for 7 months. 

He couldn’t do the distance. I just wasn’t worth the distance. I wasn’t worth it if he couldn’t have me every second of the day.   
Me driving an hour to see him once a week on his day off wasn’t enough. I wasn’t worth the pain of being missed. 

He wanted to wait. To break up now but with the intention of getting me back later. He wanted away. Away from the pain being with me brought. 

He wanted to be able to have girls over without feeling bad. 

He wanted to be able to flirt freely without feeling guilty. 

Essentially, that translated to, whether he knew it or not. He wanted to be single. He wanted his single life back. When he could do what he wanted with whoever the hell he wanted. 

The second the thought of a break even came out his mouth, I crashed. 

The wall I had finally felt comfortable enough to lower again, didn’t go back up. 

It crumbled. 

It finally just shattered. 

It already had cracks in it. I have my family and ex friends to thank for those. But I had never actually shattered like that before. 

The cut of “I think we need to take a break” and “doing this before you were here was a mistake” rang deep in my ears. It cut straight through me. I felt it pierce through every part of my body. 

I felt sick. Nauseous. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t stand. I couldn’t think. I was spiraling. 

It hurt. God, it hurt. 

I still remember every part of that night. I can still see the tears running down his face as he told me he didn’t want to hurt me. That he was sorry. That he was   
trying. 

All I could think was. 

If you truly love me and are trying. How can you break my heart so effortlessly? 

It’s been a week since we officially broke up. He calls it a break, but it’s all the same. It ends the same. 

I was his. Now I’m not. 

He says he wants me back. In a year. When I’m there. 

What I want apparently doesn’t matter. I'm not sure if it ever did. All that mattered was what hurt him. What was easier for him.

I know deep down he won’t stay single in that year. He may never get in an actual relationship, but I just know there’s going to be a girl eventually. One that’s there. One that’s close. It may just be a hook up. A one or two night stand. Maybe just to ease the pain of me not being there. 

But I know I can't do that. If that happens, I don’t think I can forget it...It took me a long time to come to the terms of his past relationships. To come to terms that he was still in love with his ex 5 years later and I was never going to be her. That he still talked to her. Flirted with her. That I was always going to be second place to her. 

I could get over that because we weren't together then. But we have been together now. 

He’s cuddled with me. Kissed me. Held my hand. 

If he does that with someone else, and then wants to do it with me again. 

I can’t. 

If someone comes after me, I obviously wasn’t the one he truly wanted. Even if they were just a “distraction”   
  
He’s still around. He’s still my best friend. We talk here and there. It’s not the same though. Not like we use to. I’m not sure it'll ever be the same. 

But every text message stings. I can’t message him first anymore. I feel like I’m being annoying. Like I’m breaking the illusion for him that I’m not real anymore. It feels like I’m breaking the rules. 

The rules as the ex. 

I still need him and God I hate that.

I don’t want to anymore.

I’m sick and tired of getting attached to people that always leave. They always leave. 

Why do I keep getting attached when I know what's going to happen, because it always happens. I wish and pray that with every new person I meet it will be different, but it never is. 

I didn’t want to get attached to him. I didn’t. I knew that would happen and it did. 

I knew it and I did it anyway. I gave in against my better judgment. 

He told me he was different. That he wouldn’t hurt me. Leave me. That I was the one he wanted. That I was the girl he’d been after for 7 years. 

And yet... 

I’m here. Broken. Again. Because of him. Because he didn’t want to keep trying. 

It’ll be alright, eventually. Probably. Maybe. But I don’t think I can do this again. 

I spiraled so far down and so hard and so fast that it’s taking everything I have to work on pulling myself back out. 

I’m drowning and I quite honestly have no desire to come back to the surface for air. 

I don’t think I can do it again. 8 times was enough. And the 8th about killed me. Both literally and figuratively. 

I simultaneously want to hold tighter and let go. 

I’m just floating through my day to day and I don’t know how to feel anymore. 

My view of him has changed. The comfort level has shifted. I unconsciously feel the need to guard myself around him now. 

And honestly?...I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not...it’s just how it is. 

We all have vices and he just happens to be mine. 

The person I needed most; taught me I don’t need anyone. 

I knew. From the very start. It was too good to be true. 


End file.
